At breakfast, it seemed to Mrs.Colwood, she had been barely presentable: untidy hair, a dress with various hooks missing, and ruffles much in need of washing.
Muriel could only suppose that the carelessness of her attire was meant to mark the completeness of her conquest of Beechcote.

But now her gown of scarlet velveteen, her arms bare to the elbow, her frizzled and curled hair, the powder which gave a bluish white to her complexion, the bangles and beads which adorned her, showed her armed to the last pin for the encounters of the luncheon-table.
Mrs.Colwood, however, after a first dazzled look at what she wore, thought only of what she said.

She hurriedly drew the girl into her own room, and shut the door.

When, after some conversation, Fanny emerged, Mrs.Colwood was left in a state of agitation that was partly fear, partly helpless indignation.

During the fortnight since Miss Merton's arrival all the energies of the house had been devoted to her amusement.
A little whirlwind of dissipation had blown through the days.